


Resolve

by choc_e



Category: Fleabag (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Love, Priest back-story, Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23063665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choc_e/pseuds/choc_e
Summary: A chance encounter brings up old memories, old feelings, and old problems.
Relationships: Fleabag/Priest (Fleabag)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 119





	1. The Garden

She sat at the bar, mindlessly tracing the edge of her glass with her fingertip while her eyes scanned the garden, people-watching. Claire would be a little while yet, so she perched on the edge of her bar stool, one foot on the grass, one on the rung of the stool, as only her height could allow. 

Her bus had got her there a little earlier than she'd hoped, but her ticket allowed a free drink, so she was happily settled, watching people arrive. No-one she knew, though. She didn't even think Claire knew anyone there, it was just a few drinks out to celebrate Claire's house move, and they'd seen this 'Drinks Under the Stars' event advertised.  
She checked the time on her watch. 8.45pm. Claire would be here soon. 9, she'd said. 

Her eyes went back to searching the garden for someone interesting to watch, some couple discreetly arguing, or two colleagues trying to hide a secret romance. Her eyes scanned back across to the entrance gate, where more people had arrived. She looked through the group, and locked eyes with someone else, who seemed as disengaged as she was. 

Her breath caught in her throat when she realised who it was. Her lips parted ever so slightly, searching for something to say. He smiled shyly at her, unsure of how to react to their shared gaze. He looked down to his feet and shifted his weight in discomfort, shoving both his hands deep into his trouser pockets. It gave the her the momentary chance to take a deep breath and collect herself. She looked down to her drink, for something, anything, to look at that wasn't his dark brown eyes that she knew she could lose herself in. She had done, many times before. She could still see him in the periphery of her vision, and could see he hadn't looked over to her again.

She felt intensely vulnerable now, sat at the bar, by herself. Should she leave? They'd promised to stay away from each other.

She risked a look over to him, but lost her nerve when she saw his head start to turn towards her. She darted her eyes back to the depths of her drink. She couldn't do it. She couldn't engage. She'd promised not to.

She could sense his gaze washing over her, to the point she couldn't take it any more. She looked up to catch his eye, but instead saw the last movements of him turning his head back to the group he was with. 

Was this how it would be all evening? 9.05pm. Where was Claire??

They successfully avoided looking directly at each other for a little while longer, exchanging opportunities to steal glances at the other while they were otherwise distracted. 

Eventually, inevitably, their eyes locked onto each other. Another shy smile from him, and the smallest of laughs from her mouth. They both knew how ridiculous this was getting. 

He walked over, slowly, but with purpose. One hand deep in his pocket, the other clutching a glass of whiskey. Of course. His gaze fell just ahead of his feet as he walked, but his eyes looked up to meet hers as he approached. She heard him inhale deeply, and took a breath of her own before she looked up. 

"Hey..." he said nervously, with a tight smile across his lips  
She smiled back, unable to engage her voice.  
"It seemed rude to not come to talk to you when you're by yourself." He made a point of looking around her. "Are you..? By yourself?" he loosely gestured to the empty bar stools around her and looked over his shoulder as though he anticipated someone joining her. He'd watched her check her watch a dozen times in the last 10 minutes. He knew she was alone.  
"Umm..." she took a breath, "...Claire was supposed to meet me but..." she shrugged and made a face at her watch.  
"Oh! How is Claire?" he was eager to have a topic of conversation that was light and devoid of tension.  
"Good!" So was she. "Moved house this week actually, so..." she gestured to her drink, hoping that would be sufficient to explain the reason she was out.  
"Ah..." he nodded knowingly. His nod slowed and he looked down to his drink, the small-talk running out already. He didn't want to engage in small-talk. Not after what they'd both been through.  
"And how are you?" he asked earnestly as he found her eyes.

The small talk was over. The tone in his voice made that clear. She took an audible deep breath, considering her response.

"I'm ok..." she said with a soft nod. He let the silence between them linger. "Really." she reassured him. "I've been worse!" she laughed, and he joined her, dissipating some of the nervous energy between them.  
"Yeah!" he agreed, shaking his head at the situation. 

The silence settled again. He rested his arm on the bar and leant the weight of his body against it. He wasn't ready to end the conversation. Neither was she, she realised. There were so many things she'd thought she'd say to him if she ever saw him again, but none of them seemed right, now that he was stood beside her. Despite the time that had passed, they still felt comfortable in each other's silent company. She enjoyed the comfort for a few more moments.

"I really wanted to hate you." She said softly, poking at the lime slice in the bottom of her glass with the stirrer.  
"I know..." he nodded with a slight frown.  
"I couldn't though. I didn't." She looked at him. "I don't."  
He held her gaze, then let a small smile flutter across his lips.  
"I'm glad you're doing ok." He had to suppress the instinct to reach out and touch her hand, which was resting softly on the bar.  
She noticed his hesitancy.  
"Are you? Ok?" she added implied air quotes with a raise of her eyebrows.  
"Ermmmm," he said with a deep inhale, failing to suppress the smallest wince as the initial pain of their parting resurfaced momentarily. "I've been worse!" he echoed her words with a deep laugh. The laugh she loved, and had never forgotten. She laughed with him, though a little softer.  
"Do you regret what we did? What we had?" She asked hesitantly. She knew she didn't, but then she hadn't broken any vows by falling in love with him.  
"No," he said emphatically, "not for a moment."

They looked deeply into each other's eyes, all the words they wanted to say to each other but couldn't, passing silently between them. Their breathing deepened, and matched each others, breath for breath. The tension was palpable. Unbearable.

"It didn't pass, did it..." Her voice broke slightly.  
"No." he answered instantly, sincerely, gently shaking his head.

"Father!" The loud voice startled them both as one of his group came over and planted a hand on his shoulder. "What are you doing over here? I know you're not chatting up this lovely lady!"

They all laughed, for appearances, but the two of them shared a knowing glance and a wry smile. It was a bit on the nose. 

"My dad got remarried, and Father here officiated the ceremony." She offered the information to his friend with a sweet, genuine smile.  
"Oh, that's wonderful. Was it recently?"  
"13 months ago." They both answered together. Another shared glance.  
"Wonderful! Well, Father, we've commandeered a table up at the top there, when you're ready."

"New friend?" she asked after he'd walked away. She was glad he'd found some company.  
"Ah, sort of." He winced.  
"What..?"  
"Mmmm..." he grimaced.  
"What!" she laughed.  
"I started a new thing in the Parish."  
"Oh yeah?" she sipped at the remnants of her drink, starting to relax.  
"Social Saturdays..." he said the words with an upward inflection, as if it was a question.  
She looked him dead in the eye, as a wide smile grew on her lips.  
"I've heard of something similar!"  
"Yeah..!" he blushed. They shared another moment.

"I should probably..." he gestured up towards the table his group were sitting at. The formalities had resurfaced.  
"Yep." She nodded.  
"Unless... is Claire even coming?"  
"Umm..." she checked her phone. She'd missed the message that had come through while they'd been talking.

\- Boiler emergency! I'm so sorry!! See you tomorrow though? -

"...doesn't look like it."  
"Oh, ok..." he struggled with himself. He really shouldn't invite her to join them, but it would be rude not to.  
"There's a bus in 5 minutes anyway so..." she helped him out of his obvious conflict.  
"Right..." his accent lingered on the end of the word, sending a shiver up her back as she stood to hang her small bag on her shoulder.

The moment lingered, neither of them sure of how to part. She broke the silence.

"Guess I'll randomly bump into you in another year then!" They both laughed awkwardly as she took a few steps.  
"Yeah..." he said quietly, committing her image to his mind. His eyes darted all over her, the memories of their past flooding his mind. Her scent filled his lungs as the air moved past her.  
"Bye..." she waved softly.  
"Bye..."

He watched her walk away. He hoped she would look back, but she had stronger resolve than he would have done.


	2. The Bus

The bus was unusually busy for a Sunday afternoon, but she had got a window seat and was watching the world go by as the bus made stop after stop. She had been reading her book, but her mind kept taking her back to the night before, so it rested in her lap, her thumb holding her place. 

Her sleep had been restless. She knew seeing him wouldn't change anything, she kept reminding herself of that. Her feelings for him had resurfaced, of course, but she knew they would occasionally. She had learned to live with the fact she couldn't be with the man she loved. She hadn't found love since him, but she was calm in her confidence that, one day, she would, and all this would just be another chapter of her life. She would be able to look back on their time together fondly, without the heartache. It had dulled over time, but it still had a presence in her.

"'Scuse me, d'you mind if I..." a voice asked, gesturing to the empty seat beside her, more out of politeness than seeking explicit permission.  
"Sure..." she absent mindedly responded, and looked up to the person while she shifted herself closer to the window. "Oh for fuck's sake..." She couldn't help but laugh.  
"Oh! Hello..." he laughed as well, shaking his head. "Not stalking, I promise!" He held both his hands up in an over the top gesture. 

He was in his black clothes, the white dog-collar snug against his Adam's apple. She dragged her eyes away.

"Going somewhere?" The question sounded ridiculous before it had even left his lips, and he cringed inwardly.  
"No, no, just a quiet Sunday. Thought I'd see if the 88 was all it was cracked up to be!"  
"And?" He played along.  
"It's got promise." She playfully raised an eyebrow. He shook his head. He'd missed her.  
"I'm on my way to see Claire in her new house." She conceded "Helping her unpack, and Klare's making dinner."  
"Klare?" He was confused, his face screwed up in a way she could only consider cute.  
"Finland."  
"Oh yeah...!" He recalled her mentioning her sister's interest in her business partner. "Good for her." He was genuinely glad Claire had found happiness.

"So is this your regular route?" She asked in a mocking, pick-up line kind of way.  
"No!" His eyes widened. "One of my parishioners had to move and is feeling a bit lonely, so I'm going to visit. We're playing Scrabble!" He was genuinely excited. "She beat me last time though, so..." he started to wonder if round two was a good idea.  
She had the widest smile on her face, and was chuckling at his enthusiasm and playfulness. He smiled back. They'd both missed this.

"I'm really glad you and your sister are still close." He'd prayed for her to keep a good relationship with her family, amongst other things.  
"Yeah, we're closer than ever, which is a bit weird!"  
He smiled and took in the lightness that glowed from within her. She seemed happy, under it all. He took in every detail of her face, her smile softening slightly as she noticed.  
"She's been really good support for me... through everything." She hesitated.  
"Good..." he said, imperceptibly quietly.

"What're you reading?" He asked loudly, to move the conversation along to something lighter. He pointed to the book nestled in her lap. She turned it over to show him the cover.  
"Brené Brown." She said with a smile, grateful to not linger on the memories running through her mind. "Do you kno..."  
He cut her off by shaking his head and muttering under his breath.  
"Are you fucking kidding me!" He looked to the heavens. He unzipped the bag that was at his feet, and took out the exact same book, heavily thumbed, and practically threw it down onto his leg.

'Brené Brown - Rising Strong - This is a book about getting back up.' it read on the cover.

He looked at her, desperately trying to stifle a huge smile.

"Oh my God..." She laughed. "Someone's having fun!" Her eyes looked up to the sky momentarily.  
"Must be a quiet weekend up there!" He looked up to God again, shaking his head still. What was He doing to him??

"Look..." he said, shifting his body to face towards her, tucking his leg beneath him "...can we just cut the bullshit?!" He frowned. He was tired of holding up the pretense.  
"Ok..." She agreed, but she wasn't entirely sure how much of the bullshit he wanted to cut.  
"Can we just meet up somewhere, talk, catch up..." His eyes pleaded with her. "I've missed being your friend."  
She took a breath, but he sensed her hesitation, so cut her off.  
"Call it divine intervention," his hand gestured loosely to God, "call it fate, call it a massive coincidence, call it..." he searched for something she would relate to, "...call it whatever the fuck you want, to be honest, I don't care, but this..." he used his book to gesture between them, and to the bus, "...isn't nothing."

She smiled softly. It was hard to ignore. 

"Help me figure this out?" He asked, desperately wanting to take her hand, but refraining. "I've been doing a shit job of making sense of things without you."

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. She'd been so resolute in honouring their promise to stay away from each other. She hadn't walked past the church, she hadn't been anywhere near the places she knew he went to. She'd kept to her side of the deal. 

Had anything changed? Was this just destined to fail, again? Was she strong enough to lose him for a second time? Did she need to be the strong one, and insist he let it go?

She opened her eyes to see him patiently awaiting her answer. Her heart pounded against her chest. She had to know. She'd regret it if she didn't.

"Come to the café tomorrow." She decided.  
"The café...?" He winced. "That didn't work out so great last ti...oh shit! FUCK! That's my stop!" He scrambled to his feet, tripping over himself, falling down the single step in the aisle beside them.  
She laughed at him, flustered, fumbling, trying to get the attention of the driver to re-open the doors.  
"Oh my God..." she openly laughed at his reaction. "Wait, your bag!" She shouted after him, holding it out for him.  
"Shit, thanks!" He reached across the seats in front of them and took it.  
"And your book!" She picked it up from the floor where it'd fallen.  
"Oh...fuck!" He took it from her hands, and spun back around to shout to the driver. "Wait, please!" He muttered blasphemously under his breath, while the doors re-opened.  
"Thank you!" He gestured a loose wave to the driver as he stepped off the bus. "Bye!" He shouted in her vague direction, trying not to drop his bag or book in the street.

She sat back into her seat and took in the scene he'd left behind. Several passengers shocked and intrigued at a blasphemous priest, not at all calm and collected as they would have expected. She smiled fondly to herself, recalling her first reaction to the 'cool, sweary priest' she'd first met.

A soft knock on the window of the bus distracted her.  
"Café..." his muffled voice reached her. "...tomorrow".


	3. The Café

He arrived at the café late in the day, 20 minutes or so before closing. There were a few customers left, but she had already started closing up. She was clearing the last of the outside tables when she saw him approach from the end of the road. His smile was wide, and his hands were in his jeans pockets, but loosely, not like the other night. He was comfortable. 

"Evening..." she greeted him with thinly veiled sarcasm. It was late afternoon, at best.   
"Afternoon." He corrected her, with a wry smile. "Oh hey, let me get that for you." He reached across her to open the door as she balanced a full tray of cups and plates.

He stepped into the café behind her and looked around. It looked much the same as when he was there last, but for the two tables with customers still finishing their drinks. He walked over to the cage in the corner and peered in.

"Hillary!!!" He poked a finger through the wire mesh. "Can I get her out?" He asked, full of child-like glee.  
"Sure. You can keep her company while I finish up."  
"She is so fucking cute." He told her, pointing a finger at the tufts of hair sprouting from the top of her head.  
"Tea?"  
"No, don't go to any trouble." He said, still focused primarily on Hillary.  
"It's literally my job." She laughed, gesturing the the entire café.  
"Let me help you then." He said half-heartedly as he lifted Hillary to his eye level for a better look at her.  
"No, you sit there. It's clear who you came to see." She smirked at him.  
He narrowed his eyes at her.  
"She's cute, leave us alone..." he cuddled Hillary close into his jumper.

Once the last customers had left, she placed two cups of tea on the table he was sat next to. He guided Hillary back into her cage, and pulled his chair under the table, resting his arms on top.

"Busy day then?" He asked as she stretched her long legs under the table and her arms above her head. "You must be shattered!"  
"Yeah, but..." she shrugged, as though it was obvious, "I love it."  
"It shows." His smile cut straight to her heart, making her sure he could hear it pounding in her chest.

"If I ask you about this place are you going to kick me out again?" He mocked, but was wary he was on potentially rocky ground, rubbing his thumb against the handle of the teacup and trying to catch a glimpse of her reaction.  
She laughed. It was a fair comment.   
"No." She said with a sincerity in her eyes. The moment settled. 

"I'm sorry that I upset you that day." He said. It had played on his mind after their eventual parting, and he had prayed for her forgiveness.

She shook her head with a gentle smile. It was water under the bridge.

"So come on then," he took the opportunity to move past it, "tell me about this place. There's got to be some kind of story behind all this!"  
"Oh it's quite the story!"  
"I'm not going anywhere!" He lifted his cup as if to cheers against hers.

"The café came first." She answered his year-long question.  
"Right..."   
"Then the guinea pig."  
"Ok..." he chuckled.  
"Then the guinea pig café just sort of... happened!"  
"Where'd the guinea pig come from?"  
"Me." She took a deep breath. All or nothing. "Hillary was a birthday present for my friend. We opened this place together."  
"Ah ok..." he looked around, the place having more meaning all of a sudden. He could sense her discomfort, but she wasn't shutting him out.   
"What's your friend's name?" He asked gently.  
She cleared her throat before she answered.  
"Boo." She said into her cup. "It was Boo."  
He nodded gently to himself. He understood.   
"What happened?" His words were quiet and gentle as he sought out her eyes, though she was still searching her cup for strength.  
"She..." she hesitated. This is where it'd all gone wrong before. She didn't want that to happen again. She wanted him to know.  
"It's ok if you don't want to..." he gently, instinctively, touched her hand.  
"No it's ok." She rested her other hand on top of his. His affection was reassuring. Strengthening. She took one more deep breath.

"She died." She pulled her hands back from his to surround her cup. He gave her the space she needed, he'd learnt from his mistake last time.   
"It was my fault." She met his gaze.  
"No..." he gently reassured her.  
"I slept with her boyfriend." She searched his eyes for judgement that never came. "She never knew it was me though. Maybe she does now, I don't know." She looked to the heavens.  
"Anyway, she was in a bad place, and there was an accident. It wasn't meant to be this way." She paused to catch her breath. "I didn't mean for it to be this way." The words came out as a whisper.

He watched as she sat with her words. She hadn't spoken about Boo in a long time, and hadn't opened up to anyone about her at all. His heart ached for the pain she'd been through, for the pain she was sitting with now. Her eyes glistened with tears, but she blinked them away before they fell.

"So I'm a fuck up!" She tried to laugh away the sadness, but it lingered in her.  
"You're not a fuck up." He said quietly. "You made some bad choices. That doesn't make you a bad person."  
"Right..." she answered sarcastically, with a slight roll of the eyes. What would he know anyway.

"I slept with my brother's wife." He said matter of factly. "With his WIFE." He emphasised.  
She looked at him. Maybe he did know. 

"And it ruined everything." His voice cracked. "I ruined everything."  
"It ruined their marriage." He paused. He hadn't spoken about this is many years, and the pain was resurfacing.   
"She and I had been friends before they even knew each other. I loved her. And that was ruined." He continued, calmly. "My parent's just..." he shook his head and made a face of confusion "...shut me out."

He spoke his words almost to himself, his eyes occasionally touching upon hers to see her reaction. She had none, she was just listening.

"My relationship with my brother just..." he attempted a laugh but it came out as a pained sigh "...you can imagine!" The smallest of frowns grew on her face for the anguish she could sense in his heart.

"He went to SUCH a dark place. He refused to talk to anyone. Just shut himself away. He never spoke to me again."

He sat back in his seat and took a breath to collect himself, meeting her eyes on the exhale. 

"That was the last in a long, long line of mistakes and bad choices. And that's what made me decide to join the Priesthood." His tone lightened slightly. "I needed it. I needed someone to tell me what to do, to make my decisions for me. To guide me."

She recognised her own words in his, recalling her confession to him. She felt closer to him for it.

"I found forgiveness from God. But never from him. And I've accepted that." He was genuine in his conviction.

She felt a rush of emotion for him. Everything about him made more sense to her. What he'd been through, how far he'd come, what the Priesthood meant to him. She sighed deeply with the weight of the information he'd shared so intimately with her. Her lips parted to offer words of comfort, but he cut her off.

"About two years later they arrested him." He swallowed nervously. "They seized his computer."

Her heart dropped into her stomach. She'd never forgotten what he'd disclosed about his brother at that dinner.

"During the trial they said there was two years' worth of stuff on there."  
"Oh God..." the words escaped her mouth in a whisper.   
"Thousands, and thousands of..." the words stuck in his throat.  
"I drove him to it."  
"No." She held his hand tightly, tears blurring her vision of him.

They sat for a moment. He caressed her fingers with his thumb. He looked at her softly as he continued.

"It took me a long time, but I know now that just because you make some awful decisions, it doesn't make you responsible for the consequences that you could never foresee." He searched her eyes for a connection. "You're only responsible for how you make amends for those bad decisions."

She looked down to their intertwined hands for comfort, letting the tears fall quietly down her face.

"You poured your love for Boo into this place and it shows. It exudes love. If there's one thing she knows, above everything," he held her hand tighter. "It's that you love her."

She nodded softly, holding her eyes closed. She inhaled slowly as she sat back into her chair. Her exhale was healing, taking with it some of the pain she'd been carrying with her for years. His words had connected with her in a way she had never felt before.

"Jesus, look at us both!" She laughed as she opened her eyes, seeing the lights of the café glisten off the tears gathering in his eyes.  
"God, I know!" He laughed with her, pushing his fingers against his eyes to stop the tears. "Come here." He said, pushing his chair back and holding his arms out to her.

They held each other tightly, finding security in the closeness. He nestled his face into the nook between her neck and shoulder, breathing in her scent through her jumper. He felt her breathing settle as they stood there in each others arms, in the middle of the empty café. A peace settled between them for a few long moments.

"I love you so much..." the whisper of his words reached her ear.  
She loosened their embrace and looked softly into his eyes.  
"We've been here before." She said kindly.  
"I know, but..." he pressed his hand against his heart, shaking his head gently. His gaze moved from her eyes to her lips, and it lingered. 

She wanted it so badly. She wanted him to kiss her, but she couldn't let him. Not yet. She took a step back.

"You need to work through some shit before we can..." her eyes explored the softness of his lips from a safer distance.  
"I know, I know." He planted his face into his hands.  
"You know I want this. I do." She implored. "But I've spent the whole of my thirties so far grieving for the people I love. Mum, Boo..." she met his eyes. "...you. I don't want to do that a fourth time." Her eyes pleaded with him.

He knew he was being unfair to her. His confusion over his own feelings for her shouldn't make her question her resolve.

"I can't let myself go there again if it's not going to happen." She'd been through a lot in the last year, and learnt too much for it to be cast aside because he was having another crisis of faith. She knew she could love him from a distance if it came to it, and she would rather that over more heartbreak. 

He frowned to himself as her words landed in his thoughts. 

"Take some time, figure out what you want." The distance between them felt uncomfortable. She took a step closer to him and held his hands in hers. "I'm not going anywhere." Her soft smile made his heart best strongly his his chest. "There are no knights in shining armour waiting to sweep me off my feet!"  
"No lawyers?" He raised an eyebrow.  
"No, no lawyers!" They both laughed.

"God, why is it so hard to walk away from you?" He practically shouted. He couldn't bring himself to leave.  
"Well then let me make it easy for you." There was a hint of a smile on her lips as she let go of his hands.   
"Go on, fuck off out of my café." She gestured to the door.  
He stood there and laughed at her.  
"I'm serious!" She widened her eyes at him as she started towards the door. "Fuck off and sort your shit out." She grinned at him widely.  
"Alright, alright!" He held his hands up in surrender and walked over to join her. She unclicked the lock and opened the door.  
"Go on." She gestured with her head as he stopped in front of her.  
"Fuck you..." he said in the gentlest tone.  
"Fuck you too."

They shared a momentary smile before she pushed the door against him, physically pushing him out onto the street. His laugh echoed within her as she locked the door behind him and watched him walk down the street out of view.

She turned back into the café and got Hillary out of her cage. She held her in the crook of her arm and stroked her gently as she looked around. The memories she had of Boo felt less painful somehow. There was a strange peace in the air she'd not felt before. It was comforting, especially knowing what was inevitably to come.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out a bit darker and more angsty than planned, but you've got to go where the writing takes you!


	4. The Flat

The night after he'd been to the café had been much like the previous few nights. She'd been restless, anxious, unable to switch off. He'd invaded her thoughts while she was still awake, and infiltrated her dreams when she eventually succumbed to sleep. 

She knew he needed time to figure out what he wanted, but she didn't know how long she was willing to wait for him. She'd said she wasn't going anywhere, and while that was true now, that would only be the case for so long. She hoped it wouldn't come to the point of having to decide between waiting for him or moving on. He was considerate of her, she knew that, but the weight of what he was dealing with was enormous. They both knew he needed to work through it on his own, despite how much she desperately wanted to guide him towards her. It had to be his choice. She had to know he was sure. She had to give him time. 

After a long Chatty Wednesday, she spent longer than usual in the bath. The water was the perfect temperature and she'd dozed off momentarily. It wasn't surprising really, considering how broken her sleep had been.

She dressed in her softest pyjamas, but she felt the slightest chill in the air so slipped on a light jumper as she walked into the living room. She reached for the TV remote, but as she sat down there was a soft knock at the door. 

Her breathing stopped. There was only one person she was expecting, although she hadn't known when. She felt sick as she stood up slowly, knowing instinctively it was him. 

She tried to push away the memories of the last time she'd waited for him, waited for his decision. Last time, she knew instantly. She knew as soon as she saw the weight of the world on his shoulders. The look on his face. His eyes had been dark and heavy. She'd seen the tears in them before he'd said a word. 

She couldn't believe she'd let herself get to this point again. But it was fine. She would be fine, just like she had been last time. If anything, this time he would mean it for real. There'd be no second guessing. No 'what ifs'. No wondering what might have been. He'd tried. 

She couldn't let herself think it would be any other way. 

She'd been stood at the door for a few moments longer than would normally be necessary. He'd seen her shape behind the glass panel of the door, and could sense her apprehension.

"Open the door..." he encouraged her softly, his accent falling effortlessly through the barrier between them.

She took a breath and turned the key in the lock. He stood in front of her in casual clothes. Jeans and long sleeved top, unbuttoned slightly. She watched his chest rise and fall with each breath. He was calm. Assured.

"I figured it out." He said with a calmness on his face. His eyes were bright, the creases at the corners were softly wrinkled. She thought his mouth was turned up slightly, but it was subtle.   
"That was quick!" She quipped, hoping her humour would reveal his thoughts more clearly to her. "I thought you'd have weeks of turmoil! It's been..." she mockingly searched her head for the answer. "...two days."  
"Hey, two days of turmoil is quite enough, thanks!" He laughed, the brightness in his eyes lighting up the early evening dusk.  
"Can I come in?" He waited patiently on the step. She opened the door wider to let him past. Her eyes were fixed on him as he stepped through, she couldn't drag them away. 

He purposefully inhaled her scent as he walked past her. She smelt clean, fresh, with only the smell of her bodywash against her skin. He noticed her long sleeves were pulled tightly down into her hands, betraying her nerves.

"Drink?" She asked, pointing to the kitchen.  
"Not yet." He answered. "Later." He got lost in her eyes.  
"Alright." She said quietly to herself. She really needed one. "Care to enlighten me then?" She laughed nervously and started to sit down on the sofa.  
His smile was so heartfelt as he took a few steps towards her, holding out his hands to hers to pull her up in front of him. The space between their bodies was electrifying.

"I figured out what this feeling is..." he placed his hand, with hers within it, onto his chest. "You asked me if it was you or God. I thought it was God."  
She broke her gaze from him momentarily, resting her eyes on their hands at his chest.  
"It isn't?" She questioned.  
"It is..." his words were sincere, and her heart dropped. Before she could formulate another thought, he rested his other hand over her heart. "But it's you as well."  
Her head tilted to one side, trying to understand him.  
"It's not God or you. It's God AND you."  
"How can you be so sure?" She pleaded with him. Because he seemed so sure.  
"Because it all makes sense now!" His whole body came alive, his arms gesturing to the entire room. "All of it! This feeling..." he clutched his chest. "...fuck, this feeling!" He was exhilarated. 

"I didn't know what to do with it before. It was so overwhelming because I didn't understand it. But I get it now." He softened his voice as he placed his hands on her shoulders, to make her understand.   
"It's all the love I have for God, and get from God. And all the love I have for you and get from you." She'd never seen him express himself so clearly. He was so sure about the words he was saying.   
"I had never felt that much love before, and I didn't know what to do with it. I didn't know what it was." He looked so deeply into her eyes she thought he must surely be reading her mind.  
"It's both. And that's what He's been telling me. That there's room for both of you in my life. I just haven't been ready to see it until now."

She could feel the emotion rising in her throat, prickling in her eyes.

"Ok, this is really fucking intense..." she forced a laugh to fool herself out of crying, and sat down on the sofa with her head in her hands.

"I know, I'm sorry!" He sat next to her. "I just have all this clarity!" He tried to tone himself down. He stroked the hair at the back of her head, and placed his other hand on her knee. She turned her head to look at him as he continued.  
"I missed it last year. I didn't see what He was telling me. But when I was ready, He showed me again." He took a breath to steady himself.  
"I was helping my parishioners make connections. An idea I got from you. And there you were." He remembered the punch to his heart when they locked eyes that evening. The feeling of his love for her, and hers for him.  
"Then the NEXT DAY, I was on my way to see another parishioner. And there you were." He caressed her cheek softly.  
"Not while I was at M&S," his heart sang when she chuckled, "not while I was running in the park, not while I was at the bookshop. While I was with my parishioners. While I was doing God's work. Jesus, it was the reason I met you in the first place!"

She smiled at him through the tears in her eyes as they threatened to fall. He took in every inch of her face, his eyes darting in every direction, desperate to take her in. 

"When I told you about why I joined the Priesthood, I realised something."  
"Wow. Two epiphanies in one day. Does that make a miracle or something?" She teased. He narrowed his eyes at her, though he loved how she gently tested him.  
"I realised..." he rolled his eyes lightly as he continued. "...that I don't need God in my life anymore. I WANT Him in my life. And I want YOU in my life." He held her hands tightly in his.  
"I could live without you if I had to. I have done for the last year. But I want to be with you."

"There's room in my life, and in my heart..." his voice cracked as tears filled his eyes, "for both of you."

Her eyes searched his and saw everything she wanted and needed to. Truth, conviction, sincerity, honesty. Passion. Love. She almost succumbed to the kiss he was waiting for her to permit, but for the question that still held itself in her mind. 

He sensed her hesitation, like only he could, and encouraged her.

"Go on..."  
She held his gaze, while simultaneously drowning in it.  
"How?" She almost begged. It was the last hurdle, but it was the biggest. "How can this work? You're a Catholic priest!"  
"I don't know," he shook his head, huffing out a laugh, "honestly, I don't know exactly. But I'll find a way." He reassured her. "If that means leaving the Catholic church, then that's what I'll do." He held her gaze so she could see his commitment. "There's more than one way to serve God."

"Are you SURE? Because I..." she squirmed.  
"I know, I know..." he had so much respect for her commitment to protect herself. "I am SO sure." He slipped one hand behind her neck and caressed her hair with his thumb. 

"I love you." His voice failed, and the words came out as a whisper. He felt the tension in her dissolve, a lightness appearing in her eyes. 

The warmth from his hand spread down her back and set her heart on fire. She was done fighting it. It was safe now. He was safe. 

His lips touched hers so softly at first she barely felt it, but he pressed against her slowly, building the heat she felt from him. His fingers twisted gently around her hair as his lips parted against hers, gently but decisively encouraging her to submit.

She surrendered to the kiss, and sank into it, her hand on the back of his head, pulling him in closer. She wanted to feel all of it, every last feeling for him she'd tried so hard to bury. She set those feelings free. Into him, into his heart. She wanted him to feel her love, so he knew she had as much love to give him as he had for her. She felt it, her pulse racing erratically as his other hand cradled the side of her face, his thumb gently stroking where her ear met her neck. 

It was too much, and not enough at the same time. She kissed him more deeply, as quiet, involuntary moans escaped both of them. His breathing had become uneven and desperate, but she felt him try to regulate it, and he forced the rhythm of their kiss down a notch. He paused, reluctantly breaking their contact to seek her out. He needed to see her. To check in with her.

Her lips tingled as she parted from him. His eyes were searching for hers as she slowly opened them, reluctant to stop their kiss. They didn't speak, but the soft smiles on their faces told each other everything they needed to know.

She ran both hands through his hair and pulled him back in. This time her kiss was fiery and fraught. She placed a hand on his chest and pushed him back into the sofa.

"Wait, wait..." he said breathlessley into her lips as he tried to sit them both back up.  
"What?" She panted, not breaking contact with his lips.  
"I should have said..."  
"What?" She sat back, frowning.   
"I still want to stay celibate."  
"What?!"

He couldn't stay straight-faced, and his childish smirk gave the game away instantly.

"Oh fuck you!" She playfully hit his arm as he jumped up from beneath her and shielded himself behind the sofa.  
"You're going straight to hell!" She pointed to him as she clambered over the sofa to him.  
"I'll save you a seat!" He laughed and let her catch up to him.

They stood together, out of breath, feeling every surge of emotion that passed between them, and let it wash over them. They wanted to savour every single moment they shared, to feel it all. 

"Let's take that drink with us..." his head gestured to her bedroom. As much as he wanted to fall right back into it in the living room, he needed to pace himself. 

They walked to the kitchen, hands entwined, and while she got two glasses from the cupboard, he reached for the bottle of whiskey on the side.

"You don't do that thing anymore." He observed, unscrewing the top of the bottle and pulling the glasses closer to him. Ever since they'd reaquainted a few days before, he'd been waiting for her to disengage, but she never had.  
She considered feigning ignorance, but they both knew what he meant.   
"No..." she shook her head gently with a small shrug.  
"What was it?" His tone was of intrigue, not judgement, as he poured the drinks.   
"I..." she shrugged again, taking one of the glasses he'd poured. "...I dunno. Coping mechanism?"  
He nodded softly as he picked up his glass.  
"But," she sighed cathartically, "...I don't need that anymore."

He regarded her with admiration. He shook his head to himself in disbelief that this was all real. He felt a calmness descend over them.

"Here's to peace." He raised his glass to hers. They held each others gaze intently as they clinked their glasses. "And to those you find it with."


End file.
